


Blended Colors

by OptikTop



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AUs, M/M, maybe some longer stuff later, messy drabbles, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:49:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptikTop/pseuds/OptikTop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>first time writing Tomarry, mostly au one shots. maybe some two or three chapter stuff later on. Mostly whimsical crap</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blended Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Call me Tricks, I don't know what I'm doing but a friend of mine got me into Tomarry recently so here I am ahha;;;  
> well all i can really say is i hope you enjoy the little drabbles ill be posting here and there and if you want to review with some prompts you might like to see i'd definitely like to hear them! c:

As a seasoned spoiled brat, five time Grammy winning musician, and poster child for sin and seduction; Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn't entirely sure what he was doing here. Well he knew why his publicist and agent both pushed it, the fans were positively eating it up, the beautiful music god Voldemort as a judge on The Voice, raved to be the hottest singing show since The X Factor. In its entirety it wasn't a bad gig, train some lesser talent, pit them against each other, see who comes out on top. 'Lucius must have been pretty confident in my patience to sign me up for this,' mused the man as he loitered about his low quality trailer. Whatever possessed the man into thinking Tom would enjoy anyone else's voice enough for this was truly beyond him.

“But you don't have to enjoy it Tom,” he could very clearly envision the exasperated blonde counting the pristine ceiling tiles of his office as he spoke on his bluetooth. “You just have to pick out people you think could possibly have a shot.” Sourly he thought there was a very slim chance he'd fine even a single one of them that could have a shot. But sticking this out would do wonders for his already monstrous popularity among the masses, one really couldn't be too popular could they? Especially concerning the ridiculously expensive life style he so loved to indulge in.

There's a sharp rap on his trailer door, startling Tom from his sulking. “Voldie let's hop to it, the auditions are starting soon!” shouted the ever overly excited voice of a fellow judge, Sirius “Padfoot” Black. If he kept up with that nickname he was going to be seriously black and blue before they got to the battle rounds. Blowing out a tight sigh and sweeping his anger under a charming smile, Tom pushed the door open, perhaps a bit too harshly in the hopes that he hit the other man, answering lightly, “lead the way Mister Black.”

Instead he watched with no small amount of disappointment when Sirius artfully avoided the door and barked out such a loud laugh that several staff members were craning their heads to get a look. “Mister Black, that's rich! C'mon Voldie call me Padfoot, we're all pals here.” “Padfoot,” he agreed shortly, praying the man wouldn't insist on some other horrible thing, like a hug, “I'm going to make a quick run to the coffee shop across the street. I'll be back before the taping begins, save my seat for me will you?” 

His swift retreat is followed by that god awful laughter, really it reminded Tom more of a dog choking on a chicken bone. Glad to be free of that cramped trailer and his sure to be insufferable coworker he still moves quickly to the coffee shop he'd spied earlier. Just because he wanted to loiter didn't mean he would, there was a begrudgingly large part of him that prided itself on punctuality, and an even larger part wanted caffeine. Several pairs of eyes tracked his every step once he'd appeared from behind the filming studio, it was obvious who he was even without the red contacts he wore for the magazine shoots and music videos.

Then began the feverish whispers and Tom couldn't deny that he took great pleasure in knowing some of them were in heavy mental debates. Wondering if they should abandon the spots they'd painstakingly secured for some horribly dedicated amount of time, just for a chance to try to speak with him. Of course before any of them followed through with the idea the brunette swiftly entered the nearly empty coffee shop and approached the sleepy barista at the counter. 

And by sleepy the teenager was nearly sprawled over the cash register, a sort of wheezing snore shaking his shoulders and making the coins in the register jingle. So Tom cleared his throat, and the boy shifted just a bit, “excuse me,” the red head answers with an unintelligible gurgle. By this time the idol is sorely tempted to lose his cool when a young bushy haired girl appeared from the back. Her eyes connected with his and they stared at one another for a moment, mildy amused Tom raised an eyebrow as she gawked at him before quickly pulling herself together and shoving the red head off the counter. “Honestly Ron, we have a customer! I am so sorry sir what can I get you please its on the house.”

Briefly entertaining the thought of free coffee, he produces a crisp bill from his pocket and hands it to the floundering girl. “A Cappuccino with four shots of caramel please, and keep the money I insist,” a well placed smile has her throwing a disapproving frown between him and the fifty he'd given her. But after a prompt of, “if you wouldn't mind,” his eyes flicker to her name tag “Hermione, I really have to get back,” it seemed the sound of her name was enough to get her moving. That sleeping oaf she'd deposited onto the floor quickly rocketing up to help her, his movements slow and clumsy from the abrupt awakening. 

Being forced to stand around in the small mediocre cafe had been very trying on his already worn nerves, even more so when the girl handed him his cup and tried asking for a signature on a copy she had of his autobiography. Tom was more than glad to escape from that bizarre encounter once he'd complied, writing some nonsense or another as he usually did. That whole experience had been longer and more tedious than it had to be and now Tom was very nearly running back to the studio. Except refined stars didn't run, they walked with long enough power strides that it couldn't be considered walking. He's very nearly there, just a few more steps and the lip of the cup is pressed to his lips when something makes hard contact with his side. Effectively dislodging the cup from his hands and spilling all the hopes and dreams he'd placed in that coffee.

Murderous blue eyes connect with surprised green ones and before Tom could do anything there's a shout of “Voldie,” from somewhere in front of him and a hand encircles his wrist. “Mate you're lucky I found you we've got to get going like three minutes ago,” with no choice in the matter he allows himself to be rushed off by Sirius. “I'm sorry, there were some issues,” Tom utters, unable to hide his irritation. The lack of coffee and justice for his ruined drink was going to bother him endlessly, but it would be pushed aside for the more pressing matters at hand.

The duo swiftly duck into the studio, Tom timing out his smiles and a few waves to the audience as he sits in his chair. With no amount of luck it's Sirius that's beside him, blowing kisses and flashing some crazed grin when a particularly brave girl announced her love for him. Glancing over, Tom traded nods with the other judges already seated, the young french artist Fleur Delacour, and the ever charming Italian singer Blaise Zabini. Having worked with Fleur before Tom could safely say it was nice to see a vaguely familiar face, now if only she was the only sitting beside him and not Sirius. With a sigh contained in his smile, the lights dimmed and the sea of noise quieted. It seemed it was time to start day one of auditions.

In all honesty its a nightmare, for the most part the brunette sits back and watches the others slowly pick through the throng of people. Nearly four painstaking hours later and the others had managed to gather two to three people a piece, Tom still with a bare team. There was only one person left for the day when Sirius leaned over his chair and whispered encouragingly, “here's to hoping this one will catch your eye.” “Here's to hoping indeed,” he returned softly when the lights dimmed out and a few moments later quiet footsteps made their way up to the stage. For a heartbeat there's silence, then a familiar melody reaches his ears and a, dare he say, charming male voice begins to sing. 

It's a good rich sound, a little raw, there were definitely flaws, but then he flipped his voice up the scale to hit an utterly impressive high note and someone hit their button. Tom is startled to find he's the one who spins around, and is even more shocked to see the brat from earlier who'd run into him. Now shocked blue meets horrified green but the kid sings on, not skipping a beat as he clutches at the mic for all his worth. Surprisingly when he finishes Tom is still the only judge who'd hit their button, casting a glance over he see's Sirius wink and simply raises a brow when the man turns to the boy on stage and asks. “What's your name kid?” The contestant smiles a bit strained, flexing one of his hands to shake off his death grip on the mic. “My name is Harry Potter, Sirius” “Well Harry, congrats on being the first member of Team Tom, you're going to do great things with this guy I just know it!”

The boy, Harry, looks startled for a moment then just smiles again, nodding his thanks and swiftly escapes off the stage. Never noticing the thoughtful blue eyes that tracked his every movement, “you're first team member, can't wait to see who else you get.” Tom looks up at Sirius and can't help a slight chuckle, “I can't wait either,” perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
